I was re-reading part 1 of this post and it occurred to me that I really didn’t have a passion for sports as a kid. I loved comic books though…that’’s for sure. I remember my first comic book. It was an issue of Justice League of America back around 1966. (To this day I still love the JLA). Some people in my field might even be embarrassed to say that.

“That stuff is for kids!”

Well, all I know is all those writers, artists and even publishers are all adults. I read Superman, Batman, Fantastic Four, Spider Man, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Flash, Avengers, Hulk….holy crap. I read em all! Adults like those are cool in my book. Thankfully my father kind of pushed me a bit for sports and exercise otherwise I might have ended up as a tubby guy that lives in my parents basement. Of course since they live in a condo that would be a problem. My athletic bug finally began to blossom in high school. Speaking of High School…..my father had been a sort of high school basketball star and once he had gone on to college he spent MOST of his time lifting weights, competing in bodybuilding. His grades? You got me. I don’t think they were probably the greatest. Eventually he even won Mr. Arizona (back in the late fifties). Then in the 70’s he played a lot of handball moving on to marathon running. Threaded throughout these years (up to now) he lifted weights. Make sure you catch episode 11 and see what he does now at 76 years old. You shall be impressed.

As I think back to this period of my life I also think of my grandparents. All 4 of them were still alive, and I have fond memories of them, but I am thinking of how they lived and how they finally died.

My Father’s father: He was a tough German (born and raised here). He was the oldest of 3 brothers and by the time he was 14 both of their parents had died. My grandfather basically had to raise them! I don’t know if there was any way I could have done that at 14. I suppose he had no choice though. He eventually built a coal company, and then an oil company out of a water wagon business in his home town of Chicago. (Water wagons would travel down the street sprinkling water on the dirt streets to hold the dust down.) There is an old faded black and white pic of him as a child riding in a horse drawn wagon with HIS father. (My great grandfather). He was a strong and fairly muscular man. Carrying heavy coal bins will do that for you, and kept an average build for all of his life, but he also smoked like a chimney, and (from what I have heard and sometimes saw) was quite a drinker. He slowly wasted away from Cancer and emphysema into his seventies and died at 74 years old. He was the second of my grandparents to pass.

My Father’s mother: A real Irish grandmother. 2 weeks before she died she actually had a VERY realistic dream where her mother visited her in her room, calling her name. She said it was so realistic that she had to  get up and turn the lights on. Whew! Anyway, her brothers were ALL heavy drinkers and my Grandmother while NOT a heavy drinker had heart trouble for years. In fact it was a sudden heart attack that finally got her. Once she passed my grandfather was never quite the same. They had been married for 45 years so I guess it would be very tough! My grandmother was overweight and yes her diet was typical old style “Irish.” Fats, creams, sugars and no exercise. Heavyset , especially as she got older and she was the first of my grandparents to pass away, but she loved to buy me comic books, ice cream sodas and clothes. I actually remember buying specific comic books with her because I read them so many times.

My Mother’s father: A total opposite of my other grandfather. Born and raised in Texas I always knew he had to have been a bit of a hell raiser when he was younger. He didn’t talk much about those days, but he did tell me how he rode freight trains to get around. Always a slim man he didn’t eat all that well, but he liked to barbecue and I remember many hamburgers at his house. He was also a heavy smoker, AND worked as a welder so I can imagine the things he must have been exposed to and inhaled. There was a period in the early 80’s where I had moved back to Chicago, and my grandfather was sort of semi retired. He was working as a sort of night watchmen in one of my father’s garages. Several times I drove over there with a few beers and we hung out for the night. That was pretty cool. Several years before that he had a tough bout with cancer. Surgery, the works, and he pulled through. Years later it came back. With a vengeance. He didn’t have a good end at all.  I flew out to Chicago about 10 days before he passed, and he was so out of it all I could do was say goodbye to a frail, basically unconscious man. Within a couple of weeks I was back for his funeral. He was my third grandparent to pass.

My Mother’s mother: Another Texan and this side of the family seems to have long life spans. I remember well my great grandmother who lived to 96 years old. A tough old Texan who was also part American Indian and if you saw old pics of her you would definitely see the heritage. To be specific she was part Choctaw, one of the 5 “civilized” tribes in North America. She was still cutting her own grass well into her 80’s with a push mower! Anyway, my Grandmother (died at 88) suffered from many maladies. Depression, fibrositis, arthritis……and sadly took any drugs the doctor told her to. Her weight was kind of up and down for most of her life and she never seemed happy about it. She was also a collector and pack rat (a little like me???) When my grandfather died she sank in and out of terrible depression for years. For a while she went for walks and was feeling much better, but she couldn’t keep it up. The depression returned. She also enjoyed contemporary music. Blues, rock, Jazz, country, reading magazines like Living Blues, then buying the recommended CD’s. She and I would have discussions about blues music. She even liked to crank her car radio. Just like me. The Rolling Stones could easily be found on her play list. Unfortunately, she did not end up well either. She slowly deteriorated and her mind began slipping. A stroke, got worse then another stroke and shortly after passed away. She was the last of my grandparents to pass.

It is the way they all died that NOW makes me think. Did they have to end up that way? A slow descent into illness, and disease instead of living well, and then quickly dying? What led to those slow deaths? Sugars, fats, processed foods, prescription drugs, smoking, no stress, relief strategy AND no exercise whatsoever were no doubt all part of this. I feel fortunate that I have taken the time to learn about diet and exercise science  helping to avoid that terrible, slow death. Maybe, once again, I have uncovered another unconscious tattoo inside of me?  Trouble is that particular tattoo took a long time to assert itself. I didn’t do a very good job of following my grandparents examples. I remember my father’s dad even telling me many times

“I will kill you if you ever smoke. It’s the worst thing you can do.”

Even that must not have been enough. That, and seeing them all deteriorate must STILL have not enough. I eventually had to learn it all myself anyway. I was doomed to repeat (in my own way) an unhealthy lifestyle, and that side road was still ahead of me. I was headed down a main road and once I got to High School I really accelerated my fitness journey. At least for a while. Thanks for reading.

Best,

Robert